Reluctant Bride

by Linda Ford

  It seemed a mighty lonely way to live.

  Perhaps he could help her open up a bit and find the comfort of sharing one’s thoughts. What was it Grandfar always said? Sorrows shared are sorrows halved.

  Later, she called him for dinner. The girls were already at the table. He washed up and looked into the cradle. Merry slept peacefully. If she wakened, he would beg to feed her. That would give him a chance to ask Agnes more questions.

  The meal passed with the little girls chattering about the town they were building. “Just like Grassy Plains,” Lila said.

  “We built Mama and Papa’s house.” Hettie seemed to find satisfaction in that achievement.

  “And the school. But not the stores or the livery barn yet.”

  The girls left as soon as they were excused to return to construction of a town.

  Merry cried.

  “I’ll get her,” Nels was up so fast that his chair skidded across the floor. He picked up the baby. “I’d like to feed her if you don’t object.” Put that way, he figured she wouldn’t be able to.

  Agnes prepared the bottle and handed it to him. She watched him a minute as if to make sure he knew what he was doing.

  Or was it to wonder why he lingered in the middle of the day?

  She cleaned the table and washed the dishes while the baby ate. And while Nels tried to think of a way to approach the questions he wanted to ask.

  He finally managed to voice one. “You have no brothers or sisters?”

  “I was an only child.”

  “Were you lonely?”

  She looked into the distance, as if seeing those days. “I was never lonely when my parents were alive. They spent a great deal of time with me.” She sighed, and washed the last of the dishes then began drying them.

  “So at thirteen you were on your own? What did you do?”

  Her shoulders stiffened. “I worked out.” She tossed the wash water out then hung the towels on the clothesline that started beside the door.

  At least someone appreciated his effort to make the place easy to look after.

  She put away the last of the dishes and came round to face him. “Is the baby done?”

  He put Merry to his shoulder and patted her back. “I have to burp her yet.”

  “I can do that if you’d like to get back to work.”

  He met her gaze, not blinking. “I’ll go back to work when I choose.” He’d never again let a woman decide his actions. His insides softened at the pain he detected behind her hard stare. “Did you hear me telling the girls about my sister, Elin?”

  She nodded.

  “We were and are still best friends. When I see the look in her eyes that I am seeing right now in yours, I know she’s been badly hurt by something. In here.” He touched his chest. “I’m guessing it’s the same with you. You’ve been hurt. I’m sorry. I hope I am never to blame for hurting you or anyone else.”

  She blinked three times in rapid succession. “I have no reason to trust you.”

  “Nor I you.”

  She scrubbed her lips together. “I know you’ve been hurt by the woman you intended to marry.” Her words were a breathy whisper. “I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks. But I’ve decided to move on, forgetting the past, looking to the future.”

  “Me too.” Her lips set in a hard line.

  Somehow he found the decision on her behalf dismaying. As if she had closed her heart to love and caring. Yet he knew it wasn’t true. He’d seen her affection with the girls.

  No, she had only shut men out of her life. Just as he’d shut women out of his.

  A hundred arguments rose to convince her that her decision was unnecessary. She deserved a good loving home.

  She glanced toward the window. “Rider coming. I’ll take the baby.”

  He handed Merry over to her, paused to look deep into her eyes. “There is a glorious future ahead for both of us. It’s something my grandfather said over and over when things went wrong. Guess that’s why that Bible verse meant so much to him.”

  The little girls rushed in, out of breath. “Someone’s coming.”

  “You better see who’s come to visit you.” Her expression remained closed.

  He wanted to say so much more, but now was not the time. He’d continue this conversation later. He couldn’t explain why it mattered so much that he convince Agnes to change her mind when he had made a similar decision.

  He grabbed his hat and went outside to see who it was.

  “Howdy, neighbor.” Walter Wriggs, who lived between Nels’s place and town, swung down from his horse.

  “Hello to you.” Nels wondered if the man had a reason for his visit.

  “Heard you were back. Hope you’re planning to stay.”

  “I’ll be staying.”

  The man led his horse toward the barn, Nels at his side. “I had to see for myself the cows I’ve been hearing so much about.”

  Nels wasn’t surprised that news of his return had reached his neighbors. Nothing remained a secret for long in the community.

  They reached the corrals and leaned their arms over the top rail.

  Nels pointed out the finer characteristics of the Hereford animals.

  Walter nodded. “Fine animals alright, but they’ll soon be crossbred with the longhorns.”

  Nels was determined it wouldn’t happen. “I plan to keep them close to home and away from the other herds.”

  “Best of luck then.” Walter turned and studied the house. Lila and Hettie had returned to their play. “I see you brought back a wife and kids. Her kids?”

  “I’m not married. Miss Bland is living in my house with the Long children. You no doubt heard that their mother passed away, leaving them orphaned.”

  “Heard she had the kids. I guess a ready-made family suits you.”

  “They aren’t my family.” He did his best to keep his voice mild. “I’m living in the shed where I lived while I built the house. It’s perfectly adequate for a man alone.” His words grew firmer, hopefully informing Walter that he had misjudged the situation.

  “But I saw you—” He pointed toward the house. Then he nodded and gave Nels a sly smile. “So that the way it is?”

  Nels crossed his arms, his clenched fists hidden in his armpits. “Walter, don’t be jumping to wrong conclusions, and don’t spread your wrong ideas around the community. If I hear gossip I’ll know where it started.”

  Walter’s look challenged Nels but Nels did not back down.

  “Nels Hansen, I won’t be the only one to wonder at your living arrangements. You might think of making an honest woman out of her. Seems it would be the right thing to marry her. Now I’ll be bidding you goodbye.”

  “Thanks for the visit.” Nels waved his neighbor away.

  Marry her? It was the last thing Nels desired. But was Walter right? Would everyone misjudge the situation?

  He stared at the house. Should he offer marriage to protect Agnes’s reputation? A marriage simply for appearance’s sake was not what he wanted. But what had Grandfar said on many occasions, quoting a verse from the Bible? Abstain from all appearance of evil. Let not then your good be evil spoken of. Nels wasn’t sure it they were two different verses or one, because Grandfar always said them together.

  Was he doing wrong in not marrying her?

  4

  Agnes heaved a sigh of relief when the visitor rode away. She recognized Mr. Wriggs, had always thought of him as a decent man. But she’d seen him staring at the house and at the girls playing by the door. What kind of conclusion would he come to? Would someone decide she wasn’t fit to keep the children because of her living arrangements? That’s how she’d lost Ray. Not because of what she did, but because of what people said and thought and decided.

  She thought of the letter she’d placed in her satchel to keep it safe. It gave her the children. No one could take them away from her. Unless they deemed her immoral. That wouldn’t happen. She’d live a pure life. Even so, she’d been judged gu
ilty without a trial.

  She should have found comfort in the knowledge she had a signed letter from Mrs. Long, but hadn’t she once thought being married to Truman gave her some rights? Some protection? How easily that had been snatched away.

  Her mind went round and round on Mr. Wriggs’s visit, and the memory of losing Ray. Perhaps she should move to a new town. But she didn’t have enough money to relocate nor could she imagine traveling with a baby barely a week old.

  Besides—she tucked in her chin—she was through running. She and Nels were living circumspectly. Which, she admitted, did not always prove enough.

  By the time supper was ready and Nels sat at the table, her insides were so knotted she could barely eat.

  It being Saturday, she had a boiler of water heating for their baths.

  Perhaps once the children were in bed she could sort out this situation.

  They ate, entertained by the girls’ chatter.

  When the meal was over, Nels took Merry to feed her. “Lila, Hettie, would you play outside for a bit? I need to talk to Aunt Agnes.”

  The skin on the back of Agnes’s neck twitched. What accusation could he possibly have against her? Or was he planning to kick her out? She’d only go if he threatened to call the sheriff. Trouble with the law was something she would avoid at all costs.

  She longed to start washing dishes so he couldn’t see her face, couldn’t see the fear she tried vainly to stifle. Widening her eyes in an attempt to disguise it, she faced him across the table. “What is it you want?”

  “This is a small community.”

  “Yes. I know.” Odd way to start a conversation she expected would lead to disaster for her. But she’d go along with it, delaying the bad news. “I’ve found it friendly.”

  “True, for the most part.”

  Her nerves tingled. “Most part?” What was he leading up to?

  He looked at the baby for the space of a heartbeat…two.

  She wished she held the baby. It would help steady her.

  He brought his gaze to hers. His was full of regret. She supposed hers was still full of fear, with a touch of defiance. After the way Truman had dealt with her, she had vowed to never again be misused by any man for any reason. Nor let people drag her name through the muck.

  But she was at a loss as to how to stop it.

  “Miss Agnes, Walter Wriggs made it plain that people are going to be assuming we are living under the same roof.”

  She tipped her chin upward. “One thing to assume, another to know.” Though, to her detriment, she understood “proof” could be purchased.

  “I will marry you.”

  Never had she heard such a bald statement of marriage plans. Even Truman had courted her and made her believe he loved her. She pushed to her feet, planted her fists on the table, and leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “Mr. Hansen, I have no desire to marry ever again. It offers no protection. Thank you for your kind offer, but no. I will not marry you.”

  “You’ve been married before?”

  She sat down as her legs gave out. “Forget I said that.”

  “It’s not like I can erase it from my mind.”

  “Don’t be difficult.”

  He shifted little Merry to his shoulder and patted her back.

  How had she blurted out that she’d been married before? Now what would she tell him? Certainly not the whole truth.

  “I was married once.” She lifted one shoulder, hoping to inform him it was of little interest to her and certainly should be to him.

  “You’re a widow then?”

  She didn’t answer. She’d let him believe it was so. No need to inform him she was divorced. She could imagine how the community would respond if they ever learned that.

  He studied her. “So either you loved him so much you can’t imagine ever sharing your life with another man. Or your marriage was so unhappy you would never again enter the state of matrimony.”

  She steeled herself to reveal nothing, but knew she failed when he said, “Ah. It was the latter. I’m sorry. Sometimes love is bittersweet.”

  Tears pressed at her eyes but she would not give in to them. “I lost more than a husband,” she whispered, the words coming out without her thinking of what she said. What was wrong with her that she had twice now said things she didn’t plan to say? It had to be that she was so concerned with providing home and safety for the girls.

  “What more did you lose?” His voice was gentle, like he soothed the baby, and it had the power to undo the locks on her self-control.

  “I lost a boy I considered my son.”

  “How could that happen?”

  Careful what you say. “He was my husband’s child, so I had no right to keep him.” She grabbed some plates, went to the wash basin and dunked them in, letting the warm water thaw her cold hands.

  Behind her, Nels burped the baby then took her to the cradle and settled her.

  Agnes kept her back to the room, stilling the shivers that filled her.

  Nels’s boots thudded on the floor. She assumed he headed for the door but he stopped behind her, so close she could feel the warmth of his body. Oh how she’d like to burrow into that warmth until her insides thawed.

  No. It was not something she wanted, needed, or intended to do.

  He touched her shoulder.

  She bit her bottom lip as longing swelled within her. How long since anyone had touched her? Not since Truman’s horrible accusations and their outcome. Nor would she allow it now. She shifted. But he did not drop his hand.

  “Agnes, I can’t imagine how losing the boy would hurt. But I understand that it will make you determined to keep the girls. I will do what I can to ensure that you can.”

  “What can you do?” She hated the way her voice caught, sounded so teary.

  “I offered to marry you, but if that’s not to your liking I will stay away from the house.”

  She stilled. Was he really willing to do that? “I said I would cook your meals.”

  “I’ll cook outside. I’ve done it before.”

  “Winter is coming. It’s hard to cook over a campfire and be comfortable.”

  “I’ll put a small stove in the shed.”

  His arm weighed on her shoulder, making it difficult to think. She took several breaths, willing her heartbeat to slow down. Then she slipped away and turned to face him. “Mr. Hansen, I am of the opinion that if people are prepared to think evil of you, they will. Therefore, whether you eat here, in a warm house, enjoying a nice meal, or cook over a campfire, in the end it will not matter to those who wish to judge us. So why don’t we continue on as we’ve agreed? You sleep in the shed. I’ll cook your meals.”

  He held her gaze so firmly that she couldn’t break away from his look.

  She couldn’t say why she’d said what she did. She should have accepted his offer. Made it clear he was not welcome in the house. But she couldn’t bring herself to do so. The house was a good place for the girls, and while she wasn’t prepared to trust him, he was at least kind to them.

  After several seconds of considering each other, he nodded. “That suits me just fine.”

  Air released from her lungs in a whoosh. “Good. Then we are agreed?”

  “It seems so. I’ll leave you to get the girls to bed.”

  She recalled the water heating. “I want to give them baths.”

  He strode for the door and spoke to the girls. “Your aunt Agnes is waiting for you.”

  A picture of Ray flashed through her mind. So many enjoyable, love-filled moments shared with the child. What she wouldn’t give to see him again or at least, know how he was doing. He’d be thirteen by now. Practically grown up.

  Lila and Hettie rushed inside. She hugged them.

  If her choice to continue with her arrangement with Nels threatened her custody of the girls, she would move out immediately.

  She pushed aside the knowledge that she was here now because she couldn’t think of an alternative.

&nb
sp; Nels had spent a good portion of the night reviewing the day’s events. He’d been relieved to have Agnes refuse to marry him. He’d offered only for the sake of his conscience. But she was right. What people might say about them was not reason enough to marry.

  She’d lost a husband and a stepson. He could tell that she still hurt from it. He knew how painful it was to lose someone you loved, especially when you believed they loved you in return, but at least he’d been spared losing a child.

  He smiled at the thought of the three little girls in his house. He’d gladly live in the shed all winter if it meant they would be safe and warm.

  And if his being here threatened them in any way—well, he’d take his cows and leave.

  As he went to the house for breakfast the next day, he anticipated attending church. For the singing and preaching, of course, but also because he’d see Anker and Lena, and Freyda and Ward and the little ones. He missed the closeness of family. Halfway across the yard, he stopped to assess the situation. He had a wagon but no horse to pull it. How was Agnes and the girls to get to church? They surely couldn’t all ride his horse to town even if such behavior was acceptable.

  The girls had opened the door and waited for him. He jogged the rest of the way and swung Hettie up in the air.

  Lila stood by, looking hopeful.

  He put Hettie down and lifted Lila into the air.

  She giggled as he put her on her feet. “Our papa used to do that.”

  “I think all papas do it. It’s been a long time, but I remember mine doing the same thing.”

  Both girls giggled. He suspected it was the idea of him once being as small as they were.

  He leaned close and whispered. “I was once as small as baby Merry.”

  They laughed so hard Hettie got the hiccups, which made them laugh even harder.

  “Girls,” Agnes said, a smile in her voice. “Sit down so we can eat.”

  Nels took in the table. Set for four. A stack of toasted bread on a plate. A bowl full of fried potatoes. Another full of scrambled eggs. A platter of fried pork.